Thursday, March 4, 2010

Single Boodwah (Put a ring on it)

Chuck’s detailed and intricate diary entries describe Madame Boodwah’s disappearance from the airwaves and her time at a leading sanatorium.

December 26th, 2009

I spent the entire drive home yesterday thinking about my experience with Madame Boodwah and Dr Clark the day before. Here was my friend looking like her radiant old self, appearing totally healed and ready to re-enter the world. And then all of a sudden Dr Clark (who I must admit I considered to be a real light weight when I met him – seriously, who wears beige slip on shoes?) swoops in and manages to totally eradicate all signs of normalcy without so much as touching her?

Today was occupied with researching and investigating the sanatorium and Dr Clark as best I could. Unfortunately, I was easily distracted by leftover turkey and other Christmas treats. Perhaps I should pick this up when I’m a little more focused tomorrow.

December 27th, 2009

After a full day scouring the internet, all I could find on Dr Clark was that he headed up a couple of well regarded research projects, volunteered at an animal shelter, actively participated in numerous charitable organizations and lectured in his spare time. This of course made me instantly suspicious of him. As for the sanatorium, it was credited by at least 9 A List, 7 B List, 4 C List and innumerous Z List celebrities as the place that enabled them to get their lives back on track.

I was turning up blanks!

New Years came and went with no further word from Madame Boodwah or Dr Clark despite repeated calls and correspondence. Chuck tried to engage medical health boards but since the facility was privately run by the church of scientology they had no jurisdiction. Chuck also implored the police to investigate but their response was that Madame Boodwah was in the facility of her own accord and as such no crime had been committed (Chuck decided not to mention that it was Chuck who forced her into the place against her wishes- no need to be pedantic).

January dragged on and the silence was weighing heavily on Chuck’s mind. What was happening to his friend? Was she safe? Was she healthy? Was she happy?

Australia day arrived and Chuck was forced to attend a Prime Ministerial function. It was to be a lavish affair hosted at Kirribilli House, overlooking the gorgeous Sydney Harbour with fireworks lighting up the night sky. Tickets were at an absolute premium and as Chuck slipped into his bespoke tuxedo a sense of sadness enveloped him as he once again thought of his dear friend who had vanished.

January 26th, 2010

I really wasn’t in the mood to be at this function which is never a good thing when you get buttoned into a corner talking to Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd who hasn’t yet realised that holding Australia’s top job doesn’t make you cool or funny. Fuck me I was about to give him a stiff dose of reality - fortunately Mrs Long ran interference and suggested that perhaps he should start using some product in his hair. That caught him off guard and gave him a new campaign look to discuss.

I made my way toward the buffet when I noticed a sizeable crowd gathered in the corner of the room, all intently listening as someone held court. I grabbed a handful of cold meat and headed to see what all the fuss was about. As I got closer, all I could see was the shimmering light being reflected off a silver sequined dress. I moved in closer and suddenly, there standing before me was Madame Boodwah! She had the aforementioned full length ball gown replete with thousands of sequins and she looked to be at her physical best. Eager to see where she was at mentally, I stayed toward the back of the group and listened in. Within seconds, it was apparent that she was holding court on all things relationship. Boodwah worked the group with aplomb, taking questions and dishing out answers that satisfied the group with their depth, expertise, sensibility and compassion. Madame Boodwah looked completely at ease and I was filled with pride to see her back at the peak of her game.

As word spread that the fireworks were about to commence, the crowd dissipated, but not before one by one offering their thanks to Madame Boodwah. I scanned the room for Dr Clark and not seeing him I moved to greet my friend. As the last member of the crowd kissed Madame Boodwah on the cheek, I walked to her and offered a warm embrace. Madame Boodwah’s already radiant face lit up.

“Chuck darling, it has been too long! How are you… oh and you look magnificent in that suit, is it bespoke?”

“Of course it’s bespoke” I said, “I have been so worried about you, I haven’t heard a thing, are you ok?”

As she said this, she spread her arms wide and spun around to show off her package. In doing this, the well-lit room caught the monstrous rock on her left ring finger and almost blinded me.

“Boodwah, what the hell is that on your finger?” I asked in confusion. No man had ever pinned Madame Boodwah down.

“Darling, Dr Clark proposed and I accepted” Madame Boodwah cooed.

Before I could remonstrate, Dr Clark appeared out of nowhere (I must admit, my defences were down at the sight of the Hope diamond on Boodwah’s finger). Just like our last encounter, he rummaged in his trouser pockets and instantaneously, all colour drained from Madame Boodwah and she fell silent.

“Hello Chuck” the Doctor offered coolly.

I offered my hand and shook the wet fish that he presented.

“Congratulations are in order,” I said faking enthusiasm.

“Thank you” Dr Clark said somewhat taken aback.

My surprise congratulations obviously buoyed his confidence, because he loosened his tie and launched into an elaborate tale about his proposal. Clearly he is a fucking dork and may have never had free sexual intercourse before because if he had, he would realize that no guy is ever interested in how another dude proposes.

Anyway, I digress. I let him waffle on until he was finished and then asked him how much the diamond set him back.

“Oh I have a peer at the university in the Geology Department who had contacts in the South African diamond industry. He sourced this beauty for me and cut it to my specific requirements. I wanted something truly unique for my gorgeous angel” Dr Clark stated proudly.

I gagged on the bile that had risen in my throat. “Yeah, so how much did you spend?” I asked again.

The Doctor straightened, smirked and said “one hundred and fifty thousand dollars”.

I raised my glass in salute, “she’s worth every penny,” I said.

Boodwah remained unmoved throughout. The Madame I once knew would have slapped any man that had dared ask the price of an engagement ring in front of the bearer. (It was my last ditch attempt to see if she still had a pulse).

At that, Dr Clark reached for Boodwah’s hand and made to leave. As he turned he curtly responded, “Yes Chuck, we’ll see”.

They began to walk off as I took another sip of my drink. As I was lowering my glass a huge firework went off over the harbour, Dr Clark turned his head to see the spectacle and at that moment, Madame Boodwah stole a glance back at me... and winked!

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About Me

Date gone wrong? Can’t decipher what a guy/girl is trying to say? Not sure where you're going wrong and need an honest opinion? Or are just in need of a laugh at the expense of other's stupidity?
This could be the place for you...Reality Bytes
Born out of repeated tales of confused women actually beginning to lower their standards in order to accept the bizarre mating rituals of their male suitors, Reality Bytes seeks to provide insight, merriment and to break down some truly confounding behaviour.
The two purveyors of truth are:
Madame Boodwah - a woman of the world who has beaten a worn path in her travels around the block.
and
Chuck Long - a successfully married gent with a PhD in translating man speak.